Prompt 1 of 31

The Writer's Book of Matches pg.99 "What the hell do you know about anything? I mean, seriously, you're just a dog."

Start time: 12:39

"What the hell do you know about anything? I mean, seriously, you're just a dog." said Thomas, disgust dripping from every word. "How is that you feel remotely qualified to give me relationship advice."

Eric sat stunned across the small bar room table. His hand gripped a beer bottle, held at chest level.

"How many girls have you been with," Thomas said.

Eric opened his mouth to begin, shoving his free hand into his pocket.

"This month," Thomas interjected.

Eric stopped and stared.

Thomas knew he had him cornered. He felt a sense of accomplishment wash over him. He pulled his shoulders back and held his head higher.

"Exactly," Thomas said. "So before you feel the need to open your mouth and tell me what I should do with my fiancé, just think that the longest relationship you had was for approximately five hours. And that was because she was a narcoleptic that fell asleep over the course of you sexual interlude."

Eric remained speechless. His expression blank.

Thomas watched his every movement hoping for some sign that he had hit a nerve. He must have. He felt invincible, that is until the beer bottle Eric had been holding came crashing over his head. It knocked him out cold.

When he awoke he was strapped to a gurney in the back of a whaling ambulance. The EMT sat beside him, busily bandaging his head. Next to him was Eric. His eyes wide, biting his lip.

When Eric noticed Thomas was awake he leaned forward.

"I am so sorry," Eric said.

His fingers wrapped around the railing of the bed.

"I don't know what came over me."

"Well a bottle went over his head," the EMT remarked.

Eric's face winced in pain. He released his grip of the bed and dropped his head into his hands.

"God, Tommy," he said hidden in his sweaty palms. "You have to break up with, Tabitha. She's sleeping with another man."

Eric lifted his head and found Thomas staring. His lips pressed into a thin line.

"I didn't want to tell you, I truly didn't."

"How the hell do you even know?"

"Please, gentlemen," the EMT said. He held out his hands between them. "You may want to hold off on this discussion until he's had some time."

"No," Thomas spat, "Tell me, Eric. How do you even know?"

"Because I found her with my sister."

"I didn't see that coming," The EMT said, returning to his work.

End time: 12:56

July July

A few weeks ago I had decided to spend all of July devoting an hour to an hour and a half to writing. The main goal being that I spend this time working on my novel to be ready to submit during august and into the fall. (Depending on it's likability.) But it seems that I am taking, quite literally, dime store advice from a tarot card reader on what I should do.

I was involved with the Hollywood Fringe festival. I performed as Barney in the sequel "love never dies." It was an hour long over the top production written by a good friend of mine. It was fun and a good way to end my theatre time. After our final show dinner we headed over to "fringe central." It was this non-stop party at an art gallery located next-door to the theatre. My ward (faith) and I arrived earlier than the rest and after doing a once around at the party I came across a man sitting in a big bird cage doing tarot card readings. I immediately stopped.

I have to admit that I do buy into horoscopes, palm reading (which I can do, by the way), and tarot cards. I could go into great detail to why I do but that isn't really the topic at hand. Either way, I just wanted to make it aware that I have a fondness for them.

The tarot card reader was working solely on tips so there was nothing really to lose.

The teller, Matt, asked me if I had a particular question in mind or if I just wanted a reading. I went with the latter because the only question I want to know I swore, a long time ago, I would never ask a fortune-teller. Ever.

Matt spread the deck across the red table cloth and instructed me to choose three cards at random. Two of my choices I can't remember the name of the cards. The first card I drew I will forever remember. It was the emperor card. That is the card designated to my birthdate. So, it was really eerie that it was the first card I selected. Of the other two, I remember that they were exact opposites. One represented struggle and pain and the other was extreme joy and happiness. His appraisal of my choices was: I was struggling with something that made me extremely happy. I can't remember his precise wording of the reading, I do remember he was uncertain and confused.

Honestly, his reading made so much sense that it brought me some relief. I have spent the past two years struggling and rushing to finish my novel. It's so close but no matter what I do I force myself back. I fill my time with other things or I push myself to do it and thus end up hating the entire experience. It's truly been a "struggle."

Matt's advice was that I should take some time away from this one particular project and work on other things and to come back to it.

His advice isn't that novel. (Ha, novel.) I have read over and over to take a break from certain projects that keep giving the artist a difficult time, and to just return refreshed and relaxed. I just ignored it. I feel 100% compelled to finish my book. I want to be published. I want to have my words out in the world. I just want to feel accomplished. So I am pushing myself into it without really enjoying it and sucking my enjoyment out.

I understand that at some point, if I ever do get published that I will be forced to work under strict deadlines. It is just a fact of the business (I have read.) But I'm not there yet. At least now I should enjoy it before I "American dream" it and end up loathing that which I loved.

So in taking Matt's advice, I will spend the month of July writing but not on my book. Instead I will spend an hour every night exercising my creativity. I have a copy of "The Writer's Book of Matches" and I will select a new prompt every night to write during that time. If I feel compelled to continue on with the project, so be it. If not, there is no pressure.

Let's Hope, Third Time is the Charm

I have sat down to write this blog so many times but... With the pressure of being judged or scrutinized it keeps me in fear of ever posting anything. That's pathetic. I have to realize that all I can be is myself and if no one likes what they see or read then... that is just their opinion. Someone will undoubtedly hate you regardless of your story or talent. Some people will dislike me for the simple fact that it's the thing to do. (Listen to me... talking about myself like I have an image or name. I'm adorable.)

Thinking back on my previous attempts to edit my novel, I realized that i had this want in me that I refused to believe. I just wanted to write. As I sat there pouring over line after line of sentences I just wanted to open up my heart and let the words pour out onto the page. That's what I craved but I ignored it. I didn't want to take all the work I had done and set it aside to redo it and possibly make it better. No. I was being lazy. I rather go through and nip and tuck the work I had until it looked somewhat distinguishable as a piece of work. Though like plastic surgery, there is such a thing as too much work.

Of all the articles I have read (and the sage advice of my blatant lover's girlfriend) the main theme has been "follow your instincts." That voice in my head has lead me down some interesting paths without even knowing it. Half the stuff I do when I write is because of listening to that voice, and the benefits were astronomical. But as of late I have ignored it. I set up a finish line for "success" (meaning becoming a famous author) in just a few months. I figured writing a rough draft of a novel in a month span that editing and revision would be just as simple. I am learning painfully slow that is not the case. All of this is a journey, and, like in my story, I don't want to rush it and have it be shit.

So to change my process (and hopefully jump start my energy) I am going to set aside each chapter and rewrite them 3 times each. Then I will sit down and decided which one was the best and go with that.

My nip-tuck process wasn't really panning out and I found myself more irritated and exhausted by the process. I love to write. So, it stands to reason that I should just write.

Time management

It's been some time since I've worked on my novel and that's terribly depressing. Granted I have been mulling it over continuously in my head whenever I'm listening to music or the playlist of songs I feel embody my book's message. So it hasn't fallen to the wayside. 

The thing is that my time has been spread over too many areas, none of which leave me time to edit. It is with this predicament that has made me really take a look at how I manage my time and analyze what is really important to me and my ultimate life goal. 

Since I was young I've also wanted to be an actor and have been doing theatre for some time.  I even did a student film once. The copy of which is laying somewhere in my house unwatched. And recently it has been theatre that has consumed a good chunk of my time.  It's my own fault I wanted to do it. I thought that theatre was something I still wanted to do.  It has been through my experience being stage manager for the show Trainspotting in LA that I have come to two very hard conclusions. The first is I will never be "discovered" while doing a show.  It will be hitting the pavement, sending out my headshots and resumes, going to auditions.  All the things I have no time for or the energy to do.  I have a normal 8-5 job two hours away from Hollywood. So that isn't particularly realistic, especially since I refuse to move down there. 

The second thing comes as a result of the other, I don't want to do theatre.  It has been a hard decision to come to grips with but it's the right one.  I want to be a writer.  In the moments of silence, left to my thoughts, that is the one thing that comes to mind. And that isn't going to happen while doing theatre. So I am done.

My boyfriend has tried to tell me that it's just the drive that has put me off of theatre but in reality it's not. Even when I did a show here I was miserable. It's just not what I want to be doing at this time. As much as I do want to act it does not even come close to my desire to be a published author. So, it's time to pick my pony... And I choose "geddyup published."

Fear and Dying Cats

Sometimes it's better not to rush. I am slowly, if not painfully so, discovering this. I have set many a goal to finally finish editing my novel but every time I come up short. Part of me thinks its fear, laziness, but another believes its my brain telling me something isn't quite finished. I know that sounds silly, like the people that wait for the muse to hit them. (Wait... This is exactly that... Whatever.) but through the process I have realized certain aspects I had been missing and thus have slowly begun to flesh out my story even more.

To a point it's finished. I've written it, there is a beginning, middle, and end but at the same time it's not submission ready. Technically that is up to my personal opinion. For all I know it is. It may have just needed some polishing and a great many cuts (I have the tendency of being wordy...) and have been ready for agents eyes. Sadly I am a perfectionist and won't settle for less. And yet my standards may be too high. I expect my manuscript to be at the caliber of the greats yet who ever said they were great when they were published? (Oh, publishing houses.) but setting such a high bar also sets me up for failure and the fear of failing. I have a nasty habit of letting that fear dictate my choices and actions. It keeps me from succeeding in the fear that it will be shit. ("We are our own worst critic."-everyone, ever)

There in lies my major problem: thinking it is worthless. In my mind I see my manuscript and having any self confidence in my writing, in the vein of the tone deaf people on American Idol. They swagger in and stand before the judges adamant that they are the next big thing. If only they could win on confidence alone. Then they open their mouths and the sounds of dying cats dragging their limp bodies across a chalk board emit from their chords. The judges cringe and America shifts nervously in their seats. When these people are told they don't have what it takes they are heart broken because obviously someone, or maybe themselves, have been told they have the voice of Mariah Carey. They believe it and when their "dream" comes crashing down around them it is devastation. That is my fear.

So I am left to decipher if it is the fear I have that weighs me down or that there is still more to discover within my story. Dear god, let it be the latter.

Tell me about yourself

It's amazing how sometimes a fictional character can take on a life of its own. For instance I have been busily editing my first novel and I have come to a point in the story where I seem to have shifted into a wrong gear. No matter where I begin this particular chapter or put on the page it sounds wrong. And I refuse to let myself get bothered by it so I tried another approach.

The iPhone is a handy little tool. Truly. I especially love the notepad app because there is no bells and whistles it is exactly what it says. It's a notepad. Now while I was waiting to be picked up outside Von's I began to have a conversation with one of my characters. I asked her what she had been up to. It was through this series of questioning that I discovered that my recount of her portion in my tale was completely wrong. She was in fact in some place entirely different at the time of the chapter I'm having difficulty recounting. So with a few tweaks in the previous chapters I am absolutely certain it will smooth out my ride and ill shift into the proper gear.

So now I am jazzed to start fresh tomorrow with the knowledge I have gathered. This line of questioning has also inspired me to do the same to my other characters but instead of trying to figure out "what happened" during the gap of time she was gone I instead will have them tell me about themselves.

I know this isn't that original of an idea. I was told to do this exercise in my acting classes and in various "how to" novel writing books. This will be the first time I've ever actually utilized this tool. Now I wish that I had in the past. It was because of this line of questioning that the character became more vivid in my thoughts. Granted she is based off of a real life person but in the context of the story and the events that transpire in it she has become her own self.

P.S.
I found this website to be amazingly helpful. It has a VERY thorough character questionnaire. I found myself pretending to be a journalist as I asked the questions.

Many Mini Revelations

So I've done it. I purchased the URL of my pen name and thus have begun a whole other journey. Sure, I'm putting the cart before the horse in some aspect but I wanted to have some blogs written by the time I start to query. The main idea being that if I have some examples of my writing online then they would be available if someone should google my name. I doubt it but you never know. The whole process has been interesting. I asked my partner/boyfriend/thing if it was odd that I made my own website and he thought I was rather ridiculous for doing it. I'm weird he told me. Which is true. I am a bit strange but there is a method to the madness. After many failed plans I have finally concluded that this must be my moment. I want to start out 2013 with a bang and focus on my writing. I have set a date of the 26th to be completed with my round of edits. Unlike in the past the process hasn't gotten me down. In an odd turn of events it's made me realize how capable I am of doing that which is expected of me. And even in some instances have walked away from my spout of editing feeling invigorated. Let's hope that continues this weekend.This weekend I intend to finish the main plot line of my novel. It has two that run parallel through the entire thing and tie everything up in a nice little bow. While reworking scenes and adding in/taking out characters I've developed a more coherent subplot that plays well into the main story. So, I figured it would be fair to dedicate time to each individual story instead of hopping back and forth as I have been. At two points in novel my characters had the same exact scene just hours later and in a different locations. The crux of my problem due to the fact that I had spent one week revising one chapter (to perfection, I may add) and the following on the following chapter which in fact has no real tie to the previous. (Who's on first?) The past couple weeks I have had this phrase recycling in my thoughts: You make sacrifices now to reap the benefits later. It's basically a reworded, reap what you sew or anything reaping adjacent. I never really understood that until recently. I guess some part of myself thought that the computer would just magically make the necessary revisions. Obviously that isn't going to happen so I'm rather glad that my brain has caught onto that fact. But i have to confess it is difficult when it feels like your inner critic and your partner/friend/thing seem to be best buds and grew up together. His words tend to feed this second sense of self and it keeps me down and wanting to hide away from my work.